Primrose Everdeen: Catching Fire
by MangoSmoothie6
Summary: What if Primrose won the 74th Hunger Games and was forced into the Quarter Quell? Read my fic for what I think might've happened. I DO NOT OWN THG OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. THIS IS PURELY FANFICTION.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's a preview of the Primrose version of CF. I'm really only doing this because I haven't written anything for 3 months, since my laptop needed to be repaired. I hope you guys enjoy the first chapter. I probably won't update it for a bit so I can write more chapters and edit them, so for now, have fun reading!**

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I fold my arms over my chest. I try to tense my muscles so the shaking in my arms isn't so apparent, but I'm too scared to even do that. _Why would Snow come here?_ While he takes a sip of his tea, I try to figure it out. Finnick instantly comes to mind. _Oh no. Please be something else._  
"I would like to start by congratulating on your victory. Such a young age. May I ask how you did it?"

"Fear makes you do incredible things." I whisper.

My heart is pounding in my chest. He's so close to me. The room smells of blood and perfume. The former makes me shudder. He places his tea on the placemat. It's got red swirls inside. My stomach churns.

"Indeed, it does. Now, I'd like to talk about that little funeral you did with Rue." Snow growls. "Quite cute, but it was deceiving."

"Deceiving?" I gulp.

"Miss Everdeen, what were you thinking while covering her in the flowers?"

What _was_ I thinking? I was thinking mostly about how horrid the Games are. I can't tell him that though.

"I wanted her family to know that I loved her." I say.

"And there was no other way to express that?" Snow hisses. "People see it as a sign of rebellion. We don't want that. Without the districts and the Capitol, Panem will be shattered. Would you like to be homeless? I sure wouldn't."

I look down at my feet, scared that I will jump out of my own skin.

"No." I mutter.

"That's right. Miss Everdeen, you're still very young. Young people can be foolish when they're put under pressure. The Capitol thinks of you as innocent, but what about the Districts?" he sighs, rubbing the spot above his left eyebrow, "There has been uprisings."

"Uprisings?" I gulp.

"I'd be more careful, if I were you." he grimaces, "And you should tell your sister she's not doing any favours by running out into the forest!"

How does he know that she does that? I thought no one knew. If he knows, why isn't she in trouble? President Snow stands up and wishes me a good afternoon. I watch him walk out of the front door and I instantly drop to the ground in relief. _Is he being honest? Are there actually uprisings? _

Footsteps approach me, so I leap to my feet and brush the dust that has collected on my skirt. Mother walks in with a look of terror and confusion.

"Prim, what did he want?" she asks. I've never seen her be so frenzied. I can't tell her what's going on. I can't risk it.

"Oh, President Snow just wanted to give me a personal congratulations on my young Victory." The face my mother gives tells me that this isn't believable enough, "He also told me my agenda for the Victory Tour."

I hear Mother sigh and she pulls me close in a hug. I help her wash the dishes, but really, I'm scared about what's going to happen. Does Snow mean I should act younger? I'm thirteen though, how do I act younger. Do I act innocently? How are you supposed to be innocent when you've watched people die: even killed some yourself? _All because of President Snow. All leads to him. _I nearly drop the plate that I'm scrubbing.

The soap fades away into the depths of the sink. I dry the last plate with a towel and carefully place it onto the counter, then I go to the couch and try to relieve my headache. I rarely get headaches; only when I'm stressed out do they appear. I watch the dust dancing in the air, twinkling in the light that seeps through our curtains.

Katniss sits next to me and places a warm cup by my arm. After a few seconds of it slowly heating up my elbow, I sit upright and glare inside it. It's mint tea. I lean on Katniss and she strokes my hair as I take small sips. Mint is good for headaches.

"Thank you," I say, "for caring for me."

"Prim, you're my little duckling. You don't have to thank me," Katniss smiles, "Now, do you think you'll be well enough to get up to eat dinner?"

An aroma travels from the dining room. It's not the boring meat we get from the butcher. It's fresh from the forest. I nearly drool. I take Katniss' hand and she pulls me to my feet.

"I think the mint helped." I grin as we walk over.

"It's the best remedy, isn't it?" Mother chirps.

I sit back down on one of our sturdy, brown chairs. Mother walks around the table, placing plates and cutlery. She takes the chair beside me and serves herself. She seems so much…happier now. I finally look at our platter. It's a large turkey dripping in gravy. There's tomatoes and crisp lettuce lined around it, like a barrier. I take the left leg while Katniss takes the right. It's juicy and tender. I wish the butcher supplied this type of meat, but they get their game from District 10, the livestock industry.

"I heard President Snow visited you today." Katniss mutters, "What did he say?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just talked about the Victory Tour."

She raises an eyebrow at me. The lie may have been convincing for mother, but not for Katniss. She's very suspicious of people. I can't tell anyone. If Snow knows that Katniss hunts, who knows what else he knows. He's probably listening in on this very conversation.

Katniss goes to the sink and rinses off our plates. She comes back with damp hands and kisses me on the forehead.

"You should go to bed, Little Duckling." she mumbles into my ear.

"But…" I reply, too scared about what the night may bring.

"She's right, Prim, "mother says calmly, "Off to bed."

I ball my hands into fists and step up the stairs. Waiting on my bed for me is Buttercup. I rub the back of his head slowly, listening to him purr.

"I wish you could stop the nightmares." I whisper, brushing back his orange fur.

I change into my pyjamas and slip under the covers. Buttercup plops himself in front of my feet and looks back at me, his piercing yellow eyes slowly appearing and disappearing in the darkness. Those eyes will keep me safe tonight. From the nightmares. _I wish._

I regret falling asleep when I wake up in a cold sweat. My eyes are still flickering back and forth, double-checking that one of Clove's knives isn't going to come flying at me. My precious kitten meows in fret as I sob. This is my life now, isn't it? Fearing the government during the day, then having restless nights, on repeat. I love having food, and giving food, but I miss my old life. It was much simpler. We might not of had much food or running water, but you knew what was going to happen. The only fear you had back then was The Hunger Games.

"Shh, calm down." I whisper to the kitten. "It's okay. You can protect me from the nightmares."

_If only you could protect me from Snow._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's the newest chapter! Sorry I took so long to upload this, I've been very busy. I hope you guys enjoy! Please favourite/follow if you enjoyed this, and review if you can!**

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"Haymitch!" I yell.

The room's odour is hard to describe. It's a mix of alcohol, old food and vomit. What's not hard to describe is the feeling raging inside me. Disgust. Haymitch never cleans up for himself. He is drunk a lot, but that doesn't excuse him from at least hiring a maid. There are tons of women who need a paying job in the Seam. But Haymitch won't do anything.

"Come on! It's the day of the tour!" I shout again. I skip over a lump of clothes and try to dodge a puddle of putrid liquid. I find him slumped on the kitchen table, face flat in a puddle of liquor. He reminds me of a squashed spider in a way. Just with less arms.

I tap him on the shoulder, hoping for a response. Nope. I don't want to be rough. He's gone through a lot. I unearth a kettle from the bottom of a pile of clothes and rinse it out. I boil water inside while looking through his cupboards. In one of the last ones I check, a small box of green tea sits in the corner. It only has a few left. I wash a mug that smells of coffee and pour the steaming water inside. The tea brews while I create a safe pathway back to Haymitch.

I place the teacup gently next to him and then slump my shoulders. _I can't deal with this. What would Katniss do?_ She would resort to aggressiveness. I don't want to hurt him, so I shove him in the rib, with not enough power to bruise him. He nearly falls off the table, but steadies himself before he does, swinging his knife near me. I yelp in shock. Why does he have a knife?

"Haymitch, it's me." I mutter, "You said for me to wake you up an hour before we have to leave."

He mutters gibberish then reaches out to grab his bottle of champagne, precariously placed on the edge of the table. I swiftly jerk my arm, knocking the glass to the table. I hate to make a mess, but he is not going back to sleep.

"Why'd you do that?" he barks.

Isn't it obvious? I roll my eyes and watch him as he mumbles unhappily.

"Can you please take a bath?!" I say, "You smell like a rotten tomato."

His face contorts into a small smile and gets out of his seat, still a little shaky.

"You're the one going up in front of the districts." he smirks.

Right. My prep-team is coming in…45 minutes. I say goodbye and walk to my house. As I open my door, a lump of snow falls in. I grab a shovel that leans in the hallway and fling the white powder outside.

My mother raises an eyebrow at me as I jog up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" she cries.

"I'm having a bath. My prep-team will be angry if I have even the slightest amount of dirt on me."

She follows me up and insists on making the bath. I agree and I help her grab the oils and bath crystals. She steps out of the room after a few minutes, revealing a warm bath. It smells of lavender and vanilla. I step in and slide into the water, letting it soak up my problems. I feel guilty for having this luxury. I don't think anyone else could have a bath like this, wait, maybe the Mayor's family. It's not fair, though. Absolute luck got me here, even winning the Games. Perhaps I would be better with a bow. I didn't want to touch them-they reminded me too much of my sister.

My eyes flicker open at the sound of a horn. A car horn. _Oh no._ Before I know it, my prep-team bursts through the door. I'm just sitting on the edge of my bath, towel hanging off my body. It's not long before my prep-team asks me to remove it. The soft down of hair on my legs and arms are removed, even though they're camouflaged against my pale skin. They comb through my hair and style it such a way that it looks unrecognisable. Then they get started on my nails, carving them into ovals. They apply a polish, but when I look back at my nails, there's nothing. I guess I'm not paying much attention. I zoned out once they mentioned something about a Capitol dish; finding hair in it.

"Lucky you! On your first year of mentoring, not only will you be the youngest mentor, but you will be mentoring the next tributes for the Quarter Quell!" Octavia squeaks.

Not another reminder. The Quarter Quell. Just thinking it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Every 25 years, the Capitol decides to add a twist to the Hunger Games. The first Quell was the 25th Hunger Games. The twist was that the district has to choose their tributes. That would've hit everyone hard. Giving up someone. I would call it betrayal, but they were forced.

The second Quell is the one I hear most of. That one is scarier than the first. There was _double_ the tributes. Imagine being against forty-seven other tributes. The Career pack could've been 12 tributes big. Just the thought runs shivers up my spine.

"Haymitch better be preparing himself for _a lot _of attention!" Flavius smiles.

Our only living Victor. The drunk alcoholic. He won a Quarter Quell? I bet everyone was surprised. No one would think that one of us could win even a normal Games, let alone a modified one.

I can't help but wonder what this twist will be. Little kids going in? No weapons; fighting with only your punches, kicks and bites? Worst of all, my District is likely to lose. District Twelve got lucky last year. Even though the children get a package of food each month, they're still thin. I'm still not fully recovered from years of malnutrition.

Venia pulls me out of the bath and props me on a stool. I'm patted down dry with a towel, then Octavia dries my hair while the others find make-up products. I peer over my shoulder and see the palette that Cinna has given. It's filled with light colours; mellow yellow, baby pink and lavender.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask. I feel unimportant, even though this whole Victory Tour is for me. I feel like I need to do something.

They ignore my request and start applying a small amount of blush. It doesn't make me look pretty, in fact, I look fresher. Like a child. These people really do know their way with a brush. A light layer of sparkling lip gloss. Nails painted yellow, adorned with tiny purple flowers. They did so much in the space of what, 10 minutes? You can really tell they're professional.

"Primrose, would you rather your hair in one or two braids?" Venia asks.

"I think she'll look fabulous in two." Octavia grins.

"No way. She totally suits one. Just like her sister." Flavius objects. When he shakes his head, his orange bouncy hair flings up and down. It's funny to watch.

"Stop it, you two. It's her hair."

I decide on one braid. I've always wanted to look like Katniss. Her face is so pretty. I can't take that from her, so I guess her braid is the most I can do. I shouldn't think like that, but Katniss is prettier. I've seen the boys whisper about her. Especially Gale. He's clearly in love with her. Is she that stubborn that she can't see it?

I'm finally let out of the bathroom and downstairs, with a robe wrapped around my body. Cinna walks through from the living room, balancing a pile of clothes on his right arm. I'm sort-of relieved he still looks the same, while Effie, who has just run past me to talk to my prep-team, is wearing a pumpkin orange wig, with matching makeup. Cinna sets the clothes on a table and embraces me.

"What will I be wearing today?" I ask.

"Enough so you don't freeze."

I search through the pile. A green, long-sleeved shirt. Silky black pants. A pale blue jumper made out of fleece. A pair of snow-white mittens. Cinna tops it off with a fluffy brown and white coat and wraps a brown scarf around my neck.

"You're bringing ear muffs back in style."

I can see blue fluff on the edges of my face, protruding out. They're a bit tight, but I don't want to bother Cinna. He's been working very hard, designing my outfit and all.

"Attention, everyone!" Effie chirps, "We're starting with the outdoor shot, following up to when Prim enters the train for the fabulous trip. All right, big smiles. You're excited, right?"

I step outside the door and sink into a lump of snow. More flutters down onto my head, which probably is hard to see against my light locks. A cameraman sits by the Haymitch's house, focusing the lens towards my face. We say our quick goodbyes, which reminds me so much of an unlucky reaping, that I have to stop for a moment. The train coming in, where I meet with Haymitch, Effie and Cinna once again. We eat a rich meal of meat and vegetable, then I'm fitted into pyjamas and taken to my bed.

I'm so tired, but I can't fall asleep. I have to play this act, of a ditzy school girl.

But I'm much more than that.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Omg, I'm so sorry for neglecting this story. I'll post a new chapter, but I might not be back for a bit. I hope everyone is doing okay with this coronavirus stuff too! Be safe, stay inside, wash your hands!**

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My mind is still foggy from waking up, but I manage to change into a clean pair of clothes before Effie comes and nearly breaks down my door with her relentless knocking. She takes me down to the dining carriage, while blabbering on about how I have to eat quickly so my prep-team can get started on me.

"I don't want to be rude," I say, "But isn't it too cold to wear anything that would show my body hair?"

"Not in District Eleven."

The district where Rue comes from. I barely pay attention to the Victory Tour, but from what I remember, it begins in District Twelve, then goes in descending order to One, which is followed by the Capitol. The victor's district is saved for last, where they will throw a celebration.

I sit on a mahogany seat and look at the breakfast laid out in front of me. Pancakes stacked over each other, syrup dribbled on top. I thank the chefs before sitting next to Effie. I don't look up from my plate until my stomach aches from being filled with food. Once I do, I notice no one has come but Effie and me.

"Where is Haymitch and Cinna?" I ask.

"Oh, who knows where Haymitch is," says Effie. _Probably hungover. _"And Cinna was up late working on organizing your garment car. He must have over a hundred outfits for you. Your evening clothes are exquisite."

Her blue eyes dart at my empty plate and she takes my hand.

"Come on, dear. Your prep-team is very excited to see you again!"

They don't look excited. They slowly walk around, eyes drooping. Dozens of coffee cups lay scattered on the ground, filling the room with the potent aroma. The room is dead silent, apart from an occasional yawn. I have a few moments myself where I wish to yawn, cough or sneeze, but I can't move even an inch, in fear my prep-team might rip my skin off instead of my body hair. I'm then put in multiple baths. The first one was the worst; a slimy solution that stung my raw skin, while my hair was being scrubbed and lathered, along with my face. I think the last two baths were water, but I can't be sure. By the time it's over, I can barely move without being in pain.

I put on a smile while I walk to the lunch table, where Cinna chatters on with Effie about the meal while Haymitch rolls a muffin around in his hands. The lunch isn't as fantastic as the breakfast; just a bowl of soup. At one point, the train stops due to a malfunction, so we have to wait about an hour until the broken part is replaced. The whole time, Effie goes on about how this will delay our whole schedule.

I rest my elbow on the table and hold my chin in my hand, staring out the window. After a small bump, the train begins to move. I get out of my chair and walk to the end carriage, where there are big gaping windows that can retract into the ceiling. I sit on the sofa next to the glass and peer outside. I'm greeted with a tall, towering gate. The train slows down, and I can hear the creaking of it opening. As we continue on, I can't help but stare at the top of the fence posts, which are adorned with wires.

There's endless fields and fields, with an occasional group of houses here and there. Every two minutes, I see a large orchard. I wonder which one Rue worked in. District Eleven really is the largest district. How do they fit all the children in that small city centre?

My preparation is a sort of blur. It was just adding a little bit of blush, then doing my hair into a ponytail. Cinna gave me an autumn-coloured frock, with my pin above my heart and a gold headband on my head.

There's a slight breeze that greets me when I step out of the train. The air is hot and humid, such a difference from the icy temperature in 12. Effie blabbers on about something while we go to the Justice Building. It's twice the size of ours, guarded with more Peacekeepers and looks cleaner. A Peacekeeper takes us towards the balcony where I will speak.

Effie quickly slips a dozen palm cards into my hand and wishes me good luck. I don't get the time to thank her before I'm thrown onto the stage. A crowd of people stand in front of me, applauding. There's no cheering; why would there be, but it isn't a quiet, sorrow clap. It's strong and sturdy, like Thresh.

Amongst the people sit two podiums. The one on my left contains an image of Thresh, with two women below. Possibly a grandma and a sister. On my right, Rue looks down on me. She glows with positivity. Her family is large, with at least eight people, I can't tell. They all look like Rue though.

I tap the microphone on my ear and clear my throat. It echoes around the eerie area. I begin reading off the cards Effie gave me. They sound so formal and so…Capitol. I flick the cards to the bottom, obeying my orders. The cards about Rue and Thresh sound so fake, but I still read them. I don't want to mess things up.

I finish up the speech with a cheesy smile. Thresh's grandma nods at me, like she understands that I cannot speak free of will, at least, not here. Rue's mother gives me a half-smile. I can't leave them like this. Without their working children, they might not be able to sustain their families. I can't let them take tesserae. The Peacekeepers start to lead me back into the Justice Building, where I won't be able to do anything.

"Wait!" I cry, pushing against the guards' long arms.

The people who started to walk off turn back around and face me. I lift the microphone off the stand and hold it to my mouth.

"As a token of my gratitude for what both Thresh and Rue have done for me, I wish to give the families of Rue and Thresh both five-thousand dollars."

Rue's mother mouths me a thank-you, while her children clasp their hands over their mouths. Thresh's grandma and sister smile brightly, their hazelnut eyes glistening with joy.

In the middle of the crowd, an old man whistles the same tune that Rue taught me. I can already tell that he made a mistake, by the looks that the others give him. A wave of Peacekeepers rush towards him, but I don't get to see what happens. Two strong arms sweep me backwards just as a gun blasts. They've killed the man, for sure.

"What on Earth was that?" Effie gasps.

"Nothing that concerns you, Miss." a Peacekeeper growls.

Haymitch yanks me aside and leans towards my ear. His breath reeks of alcohol and coffee.

"This is what happens when you don't follow the palm cards. People die. Don't be stupid." he mutters.

He fixes my headband and walks off with a smile. Effie rushes me off to the train, reminding me how we have a 'big, big day ahead of us.'

I eat supper and have a quick shower before collapsing into my bed, only to be woken a few hours later to prepare for my speech in Ten. Same thing over and over again. It's daunting, to see the faces of the tributes you killed standing in front of you with their families below you. Clove's family especially. Some Districts were screaming at me, demanding 'answers' while I was speaking. I'm glad to be on my final stop; the Capitol.

My prep-team dump me into the bath, ripping out any leg hairs they can spot. I bite my lip and try to deal with it. I don't want to be a bother any more than I already am. My hair is tied into a bun with a slick pink ribbon. Venia leads me towards Cinna, who holds out a canary-yellow dress that reaches up to my knees.

I do a quick interview with Caesar Flickerman, which makes me a bit nervous, since I'm still coming to terms with the fact that there's actually been uprisings.

I run my fingers over the glitter on my nails while I walk towards Snow's mansion, the venue of the Victor's banquet.

I'm greeted with hundreds of thousands of Capitol students. I smile and wave as Effie instructed earlier on. People point at me and smile, congratulating me on my victory. We enter the ball-room, which is filled to the brim with people adorning all sorts of colours. Music blasts in my ears. Across the room is a table with piles of food and drinks. I try to slip through the crowd so I can hang around there. A few men ask me to dance though, so I waltz with them before making my way to the table.

The table is covered with all type of food. I pick up a bowl and walk around the tables, taking a spoonful from the foods that look the best. Some of the food is familiar, like a turkey leg or a salad. Some of it isn't. To my left sits a dinner plate full of cheese-smelling tubes that are coming out of a pastry. To my right is a bowl full of soup that has a large amount of steam coming out of it, even though it's luke-warm. I pick up a bird wing and take a bite into it. Delicious orange sauce oozes out of it. By the time I get to the drinks table, I'm stuffed.

"There you are, Primrose!" Octavia squeals.

"You must try the truffles!" Flavius smiles, handing me a plate full of weird black ball-shaped things.

"I'm full, but thanks for the offer." I say, setting the plate on the table. An Avox rushes over and collects it.

"Full? Impossible! Here, take a sip of this."

Octavia holds out a teeny wine glass with steamy pink liquid inside it.

"I think I'm too young to drink alcohol…" I mutter. Just the smell of the stuff puts me off. How do people like it?

"Don't worry about it! Just take a sip!" Flavius grins, holding the glass close to my mouth.

"I'm fine, I promise." I insist, wanting to slip away from them.

"You sure? It's designed to help you keep on eating the delicious cuisine!"

"How?" I ask.

"It makes you puke. So you can go on eating!"

Making yourself puke?! If you've got too much food, you could give it to the Districts, especially my District. I have to stop myself from making a face. I knew the Capitol was selfish, but really, throwing up food for the fun of it?!

"Uh…I'm good." I fake-laugh, slowly walking away from them, but right into a man's side.

"Sorry!" I wince.

"It's fine," he mutters, turning around, "Oh Primrose Everdeen! Just the person I was looking for."

Venia rushes over, the wine in her glass slushing around.

"Oh, Prim, this is Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker. You wouldn't mind if you had a quick dance? He's been dying to meet you." she smiles.

"I'm okay with that." I say.

Plutarch takes my hand and we begin waltzing, which I'm really familiar with since at District 12, we do the dance at wedding celebrations.

"So, the youngest Victor, huh? You've even beaten Finnick Odair." Plutarch laughs.

"Yeah. So, you're the new Head Gamemaker?" I ask.

"I am, ever since Seneca decided to….quit breathing. You'll be mentoring the 3rd Quarter Quell. Very exciting, isn't it?" he exclaims.

Wait, Seneca _decided_ to 'quit breathing?' Sounds sketchy if you ask me.

"I guess so. Is it hard being Head Gamemaker?" I ask, curious about how he got the job.

"It's challenging. Very. But I'm up for the job, and it gives a great pay." chuckles Plutarch.

I hear a faint dinging noise coming from his watch. He lets go of me to tap his watch, revealing a small circle with twelve quadrants.

"It's a clock. Listen, I have to go, secret meeting. Don't tell anyone I left." he mutters, quickly scuttering off.

The rest of the night was me lingering around the food table, trying to remember all the different types of foods so I could tell Katniss. After I go around it whole table for the second time, I glance up at the large clock that dangles above us. It's eleven pm. I should be asleep. Now that I think of it, I am really tired, but I don't want to disturb the adults who are possibly having the time of their lives right now.

I make my way to the bathroom and hide in a stall. Beside me, I can hear people retching, so I cover my ears. Throwing up their food for the fun of it. So stupid.

I nearly doze off, but I come back to consciousness just in time to hear Octavia freaking out to Venia.

"Where is Primrose?! We will be in so much trouble if she's gone missing! Oh dear, oh dear!" she shrieks.

I turn the lock and step out. They flick their heads towards me and sigh in relief. They both look slightly drunk, especially Octavia. They pull me out of the bathroom and drag me down to the train station. It must be 3am, since most of the party-goers are either gone or collapsed on the floor.

"What 'er you doin' still up?" slurs Haymitch. He's holding a long beer glass that's only half-full.

"She's off to bed now. You should be too, Haymitch." Venia frowns.

"I don't sleep at night." he murmurs.

"Well…you should!" she says, "Come on, dear."

I follow after Venia like a duckling waddling after their mother.

"You're returning to your District tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, and you'll look fantastic for the cameras."

She closes the door, and the noise echoes around. I change out of my dress and into a white singlet and fluffy beige pants. I take the braid out of my hair, which causes my locks to go all wavy. I turn off the light and slip into the bedsheets and soon fall asleep. I thankfully don't have any nightmares, but I do have a dream. It's Katniss. She's stroking my hair and singing a song. I love dreams. I wish they happened more.


End file.
